


Intellectuals versus the World

by Bellweather



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Child Loss, Coping, Death, Death in the Family, Kenny McCormick is a Good Friend, Loss, Minor Character Death, Stan Marsh is a good friend, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22100059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellweather/pseuds/Bellweather
Summary: It's said that everyone grieves differently. But it's not like Kyle Broflovski ever had to worry about something like that before.That was, until, Eric Cartman discovered a loophole to the school system. One that involved death.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was mostly just an experiment, so I understand if it's choppy or not well-written :)

Kyle couldn’t help but view the world in his own particular way.

Kyle was an intellectual. He was a computer whiz kid and a straight A student, and often referred to the “smart one” of his friend group. However, that doesn’t go to say that he was an awkward, paste-eating nerd. No, he was really a normal kid. As normal as one could get in his crazy town, anyway. He regularly engaged in sports like football, basketball, and everything else like all the other kids. He still had a healthy social life and he was well known among his peers and the townspeople.

It’s only that Kyle was drawn to more right-brained subjects. Maths and sciences simply made more sense to him than history and language lessons. He liked that in these subjects, there was always only one answer. It made him view life similarly; that his life was leading him in one direction, towards one solution in the end.

Granted, in Kyle’s religion, actions are believed to be more of an influence on life than, say, dogma or faith. He agreed with that. Faith to him seemed a little too otherworldly to be true. He didn’t believe in faith, per say. He just believed that where he was in life now was only part of the equation, one of the reactants. He was living life on his way to finding the product in the end.

As stated previously, Kyle was an intellectual and that was just the way his brain functioned. He was one of the few more sensible people in the town, especially for his age of seventeen. Eric Cartman was the only other kid in South Park his age that could be considered intellectual. Now, that did _not_ _at all_ go to say that Cartman was sensible. Cartman was chaotic, destructive, manipulative, obsessive, self-centered, and unpredictable. He was an absolute pain. But he was an intellectual. Kyle couldn’t deny that Cartman was very intelligent. The fat kid had poor grades in school and was incapable of solving simple math equations, but he was inventive in engineering, planning, and recruiting others, as well as fanatical in his determination to accomplish his goals.

Now Kyle wasn’t egotistic or anything, but he knew he was a better person than Cartman just for that reason. At least Kyle knew the beauty of having friendships, caring for others, and recovering from hurt.

It wasn’t normal for him to think about these things though. The only reason why Kyle found himself thinking about life today was because of something the school counselor told him about grief, or more specifically, how different people cope with grief, and how Kyle was reacting to the traumatic incident that happened a week ago.

The gang was standing at the bus stop, as usual. The crisp, cool wind of snowy November biting at their noses and stinging their faces. Snow was one of the very few constants Kyle could rely on here in South Park. Most other aspects of life were in change and reversal among the common chaos resonating in the town. No matter what kind of situation Kyle was wrapped up in, snow was always there. It was a sort of comfort to know that one thing would never change.

The gang was all standing in the same position as always; another constant; silently waiting for someone to start a conversation. It was Stan who made the first move.

“I wish Garrison would have let us pick our own partners for the project,” he grumbled, “I was paired with Red. She’s been out all week! I’ve had to to everything myself!”

Kyle offered a shrug of sympathy, “That sucks, dude.”

Cartman, of course, couldn’t help but butt in, “Why’s she been out?”

“Bad flu, I think. I FaceTimed her earlier this week. Sounds like she’s got it bad.”

Now Kyle gave a more meaningful gesture, and patted Stan’s back, “That  _ double  _ sucks, dude.”

“Yeah,” Stan nodded, “I mean, I feel bad for her, of course. But now I have to do the whole thing myself, you know?”

“Yeah I get it.”

Kenny muffled something in agreement from beneath his hoodie.

Kyle just remembered something to contribute to the conversation, “Actually, now that I think about it, I think my little brother’s in the same sort of of sitch.”

“What’s going on with Ike?”

“His partner for an art project is out. Death in the family, I think.”

Cartman, of course, had to intervene, “-Woah, woah woah, Kahl. Why’s that kid out?”

“There was a death in the family. Ike’s has to do the whole art project himself. He’s actually so pissed off that today, he’s pretending to be sick so he can stay home alone!”

Cartman didn’t get the memo. He was staring at Kyle with a beady, hungry gaze. He was clearly thinking up something, “Go back a bit, Kahl. You can get out of skewl for a  _ week _ just ‘cos somebody died?”

Kyle deadpanned, “Dude. The kid’s in mourning.”

“Right, but he got out of skewl?”

“Yeah.”

“...And it’s excused?”

The expression on Eric Cartman’s face was something that looked like it slithered out of a hellish nightmare. It was a face Kyle has seen before, certainly, but it was always scarier each time Cartman pulled it. Every time he made that face, that face with the evil smirk and the dead eyes plotting something behind them, it meant that chaos was going to break loose once more.

Kyle saw it, of course. He felt his heart pounding in his throat. He tugged on Stan’s coat sleeve, a gesture timid and unsure, out of sheer panic, “Dude. Cartman.”

Stan paid no mind to his sleeve being tugged. Instead, he locked eyes with the ominous ones of the far kid before him. Stan visibly shivered, “Cartman?”

Cartman feigned a shrug, but Kenny, Kyle, and Stan could all lucidly see that there was something sinister lurking in the gesture.

“What?” Cartman asked, counterfeiting innocence.

No one had the guts to ask. They waited for the bus in silence.

That conversation happened on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, Kyle’s nerves were still through the roof. He was fully aware of Cartman’s capabilities, and what’s worse, he knew all too well Cartman’s determination to get what he wants. Cartman had  _ resources,  _ and that’s what scared Kyle the most. He honestly would have taken a sick day from school if he didn’t care about his GPA that much.

But he does. Kyle sort of hates himself for valuing his GPA so much. And his perfect attendance.

So Kyle just chose to ride with some of the other guys today to avoid the bus with Cartman. 

Craig was Kyle’s partner for the science project—the same project in which Stan was paired with Red— so he obliged to driving Kyle to school, as long as he didn’t mind that there were going to be a few more guys in the carpool.

Kyle didn’t so much mind riding with Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Token, and Jimmy. Craig was doing him a favor, after all, he had to right to complain. Until the boys started blasting early 2000s girl-pop music—something completely unexpected, for the record— Kyle did get a tad bit annoyed. He didn’t say anything though.

He felt his phone vibrate in his orange coat sleeve. It was a text from Stan:

_ SMarsh: Dude… a sick day? From you? Are you dead? _

Kyle smirked.

_ KBroflovski: Never. I’m headed to schl w Craig. We wanted to talk about the project before class _

_ SMarsh: Ur not hiding from Cartman are u? _

Kyle’s fingers wavered a bit above the screen.

_ KBroflovski: Maybe a little. He’s a creep. _

_ SMarsh: Total creep. _

_ SMarsh: C you at school.  _

Kyle responded with something similar and then signed off his phone for the morning. He needed time to think before he had to walk through his classroom doors. Cartman was planning something big. That scared him more than he could admit.

Kyle and the guys arrived at school earlier than most others. Apparently Token and Craig has a study group early in the morning, so Kyle had a lot of time before class started. He chose to spend that time studying at his desk before anyone else had even entered the classroom.

As class started and people started to show, Kyle did his best to be present and focus on his studying, instead of letting his imagination wonder about whatever the hell Cartman was expected to do.

It wasn’t until Mr. Garrison was taking attendance that Kyle realized Cartman wasn’t even present. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Eric?” Mr. Garrison asked.

No response.

“Eric Cartman?”

The students looked to each other, uncomfortably shifting in their seats.

“Does anyone know where Eric Cartman is today?”

Kyle felt his breath hitch. He glanced over to Kenny and Stan for some sort of emotional support, but they were just as lost as he was, as scared too.

As if on cue, the school phone on Mr. Garrison’s desk rang. Kyle watched in silent discomfort as the teacher picked it up and answered.

“This is Garrison’s classroom,” he greeted.

“...”

“Oh?”

“...”

“Oh really?”

“...”

“Okay then,” Mr. Garrison hung up the phone with a click. The expression on his face was ominous, and that worried Kyle deeply. He could swear he felt his heartbeat speed up as the teacher turned to address the class.

“Okay children, apparently Eric was related to Juice Wrld, and he won’t be attending class for the rest of the week because he’s in mourning.”

Kyle could have smacked his forehead on his desk right then and there and split his head open and die.

Stan’s mouth dropped open, “Eric was related to Juice Wrld?”

Mr. Garrison shrugged, “Apparently. Mr. Hat tells me he was a rapper of some kind?”

Kyle buried his face in his hands and groaned, “Cartman was  _ not _ related to Juice Wrld.”

Cartman was a stupid idiot, Kyle knew that for sure, but apparently he misjudged the level of stupidity Cartman could muster. Ignoring the fact that it is morally incorrect to justify the death of a celebrity and pass it off as a personal grievance for benefit, it was downright hysterical that Cartman preyed on the death of an African American rapper (to which Cartman had no relation whatsoever) simply to get out of a class for five days. Granted, it wasn’t as though the school district would punish him for his false family bereavement, but Cartman’s actions were still unjustified. They were just stupid.

Kyle laughed a little from his seat, shaking his head slowly. He had been worried for nothing at all. He had come to expect big, traumatic disturbances from Cartman as the norm. He had let himself forget that Cartman was just a kid, just like him, and was totally allowed to make dumb decisions, as long as he learned a few life lessons from them. Kyle knew that Cartman probably wouldn’t learn anything, but at least he would be out of Kyle’s hair, at least for a week.

That was, until, he opened the text Cartman sent him.


	2. Chapter 2

_ ECartman: duuuuuuuude _

_ ECartman: im so depressssssed. i miss you _

_ KBroflovski: No you don’t  _

_ ECartman: ur right. No I don’t. Im out of skewl & ur not. just thot i should rub it in. jew. _

_ KBroflovski: Dude stop texting me. I’m trying to eat lunch w Stan & Ken. _

_ ECartman: tell them i said hi. _

_ ECartman: u know y? _

Kyle didn’t want to know why. He really wanted to revel in the fact he wasn’t eating lunch with that big, fat bully and just enjoy some time with his best friends. Instead, for whatever reason, he sighed and let himself respond with:

_ KBroflovski: no. Why? _

_ ECartman: Bc screw you guys im at home _

This time, Kyle didn’t hesitate to click off his phone and tuck it away into the pocket of his coat. Cartman always managed to suck the good times away from him. Kyle had hoped that with that fatass out of school he would have had some peace and quiet, but of course, that was never the case with Cartman.

Kyle could see Kenny raising an eyebrow at him from the other side of the table.

“Don’t worry about it, Ken,” Kyle muttered, unpacking the kosher lunch his mom packed for him, “Cartman’s just being needy.”

“I thought with that tub of lard gone we would have less trouble from him,” Stan spoke from in between mouthfuls of a sandwich. 

Kenny muffled curses from beneath his hoodie.

“You said it, Ken,” Kyle agreed, “though it is probably for the best I told him about my brother’s absent project partner. I mean, Cartman’s still annoying us, but at least he’s doing it from a distance.”

“How is Ike, by the way?” Stan asked casually.

“Besides his missing partner, he’s fine. He’s probably living the best life right now, home alone and playing computer games because my mom is at the store and won’t be home until three,” Kyle said. He thought for a moment, realizing Cartman wasn’t there to rip on him for speaking his mind, and then added, “He’s growing up fast. I think he’s as tall as me now.”

“How old is he again?”

“fourteen,” Kyle said. For whatever reason, the word brought a smile to his lips, “He’s fourteen. He acts so mature though. I think he’s internally an eighty-year-old.”

Kenny asked a question muddled and slurred from beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah, Ken, you’re right. I’m pretty sure Ike is secretly a super genius. He’s probably a part of MENSA.”

Kyle loved his little brother. Something taboo in the teenage guy world was adoring your siblings; or, more accurately, the taboo bit was admitting to liking your siblings. It demonstrated too much weakness. For that reason, he didn’t talk about Ike very much. Not that Kyle was afraid of being ripped on– he experienced that on a daily basis– he was more concerned with Ike experiencing bullying. Granted, there was no doubt in his mind that Ike was more than capable of defending himself from bullies, but Kyle was the big brother here. It was his responsibility to ensure that Ike was okay.

The most likely reason Kyle’s protection of Ike was a bit touchy was because they were both aware of their estranged relationship. The more Ike ages, the more he acts like an older brother instead of a younger brother. He was already nearly Kyle’s height and weighed much more than Kyle due to muscle (While Kyle was only able to gain lean muscle in his teenage years, Ike was already bulking up.) Not only that, but Ike most likely had twice Kyle’s intelligence. That was saying something, taking into account Kyle was one of the top students in his class. Ike was only fourteen and he was already demonstrating signs of being the alpha male in the household. It would be hysterically funny if Kyle didn’t think it was so amazingly splendid.

The kid had a lot going for him, and Kyle was proud of that. He really loved his little brother, Ike. It really sucked he didn’t feel comfortable talking about him more.

That… and Ike was TikTok famous. Absolutely taboo table discussion.

Kyle decided to change the subject.

“So Stan,” he started, “speaking of siblings, how’s life with your sister in college now?”

Stan smiled with the biggest smile Kyle has seen in a long time, even his eyes were smiling along, “I don’t mean to sound like a dick,” he said, already beginning to laugh, “but it’s great! I get to use her room for things, dad and mom spoil me now, they let me do whatever I want, and I’m home alone all the time. I love it. You guys should come over tonight! My folks are in Florida on a business trip and I’m home alone until the end of the week.”

“Sounds fun,” Kyle said, “It’s even better Cartman won’t be there.”

As if on cue, the missing boy in question sent another text.

_ ECartman: dude i actually miss u. i thot a day out of skewl would be fun but I ran out of things to do. im so bored. _

Stan could see the scowl on Kyle’s face from across the lunch table. He bit his lip worriedly, “Kyle? You good?”

Kyle has to purse his lips to not snap at Stan, “Just Cartman being annoying.”

He texted back.

_ KBroflovski: dude I really couldn’t care less. Please leave me alone _

_ ECartman: dont u want to get out of skewl? _

_ KBroflovski: and ruin my perfect attendance streak? _

_ KBroflovski: Never. _

With no anticipation whatsoever, a chill as sharp and cold as a knife blade ran through Kyle’s spine. It came without warning and without mercy. After the chill, Kyle found himself still affected by its iciness. He was petrified with stun.

Kenny and Stan saw it, too.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked nervously, while Kenny reached across the table to pat Kyle’s shoulder.

Kyle found that he could not bring himself to look either of them in the eye. His eyes were locked onto nothingness, just as the rest of his body was frozen solid.

“I don’t know,” he said, “Just got a weird feeling.”

“What kind of weird feeling?” Stan asked, apparently forgetting about his lunch and focusing only on his friend.

“Don’t know… just weird.”

Kenny’s touch on Kyle’s shoulder pressed down a bit tighter as he started to talk. The fabric of his coat hoodie muddled his speech, and he was not understandable at all. But Kyle could tell by the tone of his voice that Kenny was saying something serious of utmost importance.

It really was a shame Kyle couldn’t understand him.

It was even more of a shame Kyle was too frightened to ask for clarification.


	3. Chapter 3

It was in the last hour of class that the phone on Mr. Garrison’s desk rang again. Normally at this time of the day, the class had nothing left to do so they were permitted to socialize, so with all the chattering, no one could hear the phone ringing for the first four calls. It wasn’t until the fifth call that Mr. Garrison realized the phone was ringing.

“Shut up!” he hissed at the class, pressing the receiver to his ear, “This is Garrison’s classroom.”

Then there it was again: the feeling. That intense coldness piercing Kyle’s heart. His frozen fingers dropped the pencil in his hand, his jaw snapped shut, and his expression went blank all over again. 

This time, everyone saw it. Since Garrison scolded the students, the entire classroom was dead silent, and they were all witness to Kyle’s sudden chill. They stared at him in quiet fascination, as well as deep concern. The only sound that was discernible was Garrison over the phone.

“...”

“Oh?”

“...”

“Oh really?”

“...”

“Okay then,” Garrison said, and pulled the phone away from his ear. But he didn’t hang up.

“Kyle Broflovski?” he called out, “Phone call for you.”

Kyle was still locked in the trance. He was so stupefied by the chill, in fact, that he didn’t hear his name being called. It took a physical nudge from Stan and Kenny for Kyle to even comprehend what was going on around him.

“Pardon?” he asked Mr. Garrison, oblivious and quite tense. Confusion was not a feeling he was used to experiencing, and it was scaring him.

“Phone call,” Garrison replied.

Now Kyle was used to being stared at, but not like this. Something about this was different. As he stood from his desk and creeped to the front of the classroom, he started to shrink into himself. He could feel himself shaking with stiffness in his joints, and his nostrils quivering in anticipation.

He pressed the receiver to his ear. It was cold.

“Hello?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Bubby? Is that you?”

No one could mistake the loud New Jersey voice of Mrs. Broflovski. But something about her tone was unusual.

“Yeah it’s me, Mom. What’s going on?” Kyle asked. He pretended that he couldn’t see the entire class staring at him.

“Bubby, you need to come home right away.”

“Mom, I can't go home. There are only forty five more minutes of class, anyway. And my perfect attendance–”

“–Kyle,” his mom cut in, using his actual name, “it’s Ike. Something happened to Ike.”

* * *

The funeral was held a week later, with the entire town in attendance. Stan and Kenny were by Kyle’s side the whole time, trying to break the tension with jokes, giving him words of comfort, and even holding his hands—even if it looked “gay.” Not that anyone had the audacity to pick on Kyle at the funeral of his fourteen year old little brother. They all must have expected the worst from Kyle, because they were all treating him like a fragile set of china. But he gave them no reason to treat him that way.

For the entire week after Ike passed away, Kyle still went to school. He still took tests and aced them and still continued to do his homework. He spent his spare time doing Ike’s laundry, organizing Ike’s desk drawers, categorizing Ike’s bookshelf, and counting out silverware, paisleys, invitations, and members on the guest list for the funeral.

Kyle’s soulless chores and his nonchalant behavior were so concerning that Stan and Kenny ordered him an emergency session with Mr. Mackee.

“Howdy there, Kyle,” greeted the counselor one dull school morning.

“Hello.”

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, m’kay?”

“Okay.

“How are you doing, Kyle? You doing m’kay?”

“Fine.”

“I understand your brother passed away recently.”

“Yes.”

“What was his name?”

“Ike.”

“Do you want to tell me about him?”

“...”

“You can tell me anything at all, m’kay?”

“...he was fourteen. He was sixty eight inches tall; which is one hundred seventy two and seventy two hundredths centimeters. He weighed one hundred and forty four pounds and six ounces. He had an IQ of one hundred forty two. His grade point average was four point zero exactly.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I meant, tell me about your brother, Kyle. Tell me about him, m’kay?”

“...what more is there to tell?”

That was how Kyle functioned now. Eric Cartman killed his younger brother just to get him a week’s worth of excused absences from school. Kyle knew Cartman did it; no one else knew, and no one else believed him, but Kyle knew. However, all Kyle could do was think about how Ike’s name was impossible to spell with the periodic table of elements because combination of the letters “k” and “e.” He couldn’t feel anything. He was a complete void of any intimations for Ike ever.

The only other intellectual was the same way. The week Cartman returned to school and saw that Kyle was still there, he didn’t say anything. He just gave Kyle a smile, an evil, hating smile, and went on his way. Kyle gave no such expression in return.

For the first time in his life, there was something burning in the back of Kyle’s mind that he couldn’t decipher. He felt wrong beyond words for not being able to simply mourn the loss of someone so close to him. He missed Ike. He really, really, really missed Ike badly. But he couldn’t express it. All he could do was count the number of pencils Ike had in his dresser drawer.


End file.
